Page 106 of The Lost Reliquary

“And you’re keeping the rest ignorant, leveraging their belief that the old gods will return if Tempestra-Innara falls, taking advantage of their faith.”

“Of course,” says Rion, smirking. “Why do you think I started that little rumor in the first place?”

Oh.“The other gods are really dead then.”

“Very. Not by my hand, of course. I kept myself hidden over the years, watched them turn on each other one by one. I’d already learned my lesson. I was the oldest of the gods, but never the most powerful. And six against one… it was never going to be a fair fight. But I knew things, understood mysteries of our world that my siblings never did. Do you know why they call me the Whisperer, Lys?”

“Because of your whispered lies, your manipulations.”

“No.” That single word carries an ancient weightiness that reminds me who I am speaking to. “BecauseI’mthe one who called them into being in the first place.”

“When they whisper, we wake…”

Around us, the prayer begins, then stops just as quickly. Something cold settles in my bones, born of a growing comprehension.Whentheywhisper… Not Tempestra.

Osiron.

“Old words,” Rion says lightly. “Made good use of over the years. Nothing like familiar incantations and rituals to cement the stones of belief together, whatever those beliefs may be.”

“You created the other gods?”

“Called more than created,” says Rion. “From a place I can barely remember, somewhere outside the world of touch and taste and smell. I found my way here, the first of us to become flesh. The first of us totradethat flesh, when it began to fail. And even when my siblings destroyed that, when they overwhelmed me with the brute force of their combined power, well… they always understood destruction better than what they were trying to destroy. Lucky for me, though they were always able to sense each other, and their Chosen, I myself have always been a blind spot. A quirk, I suppose, of my part in their making. I was able to shift myself, find a new body, disappear. Which brings me to where I am now.”

“Eons later?” Each answer spawns more questions. “What have you been doing all this time? Hanging around guesthouses and peddling naughty books?”

Rion laughs. “Not thewholetime. Your incredulity is understandable, and so very, very mortal.” He pauses. “But I am not. I saw what was coming when my siblings turned on me. Peace never holds between spoiled children. I might have been their first conflict, but I also knew that—eventually—they’d turn on each other. That someday, only one would be left.” A sly smile rises to his lips. “I have the luxury of time. And as you can see, I can be very, very patient.”

“And yet you still need me to do your dirty work.”

That erases Rion’s smile. “Unfortunately, yes. Tempestra, even with a failing avatar, is still stronger than I am. Which is why I turned to alternative avenues of attack.”

“The reliquary. And the blood of a dead god.”

“Not the most eloquent solution, I’ll admit.”

“Or successful.”

“No,” he concedes. “Honestly, it took even me ages to conceive of the plot. It was the Stone God who made the reliquaries, as a gift to his siblings. None of them considered that the vessels might preserve their blood indefinitely, or how that preservation following their deaths would change it. I certainly didn’t. Thousands of years and there are intricacies about this world—about divinity itself—that even I haven’t fully unraveled.” His nose wrinkles, as if smelling something unpleasant. “Did you know the Arbiters are entirely Tempestra’s creatures? They didn’t exist until after Arcadius fell, and I’ve never sorted out exactly how they create the potion that gives them their particular ability. I suspect they drew some inspiration from the Renderers’ ‘hounds,’ but…” He shakes his head. “Someday, there will be time for learning and research unhampered by secrecy. Now is the time to strike, while my sister is in decline, before they take a new avatar.”

“What if you’re already too late?”

He shakes his head. “I’d know, feel that shunt of power.”

Well, that’s something at least. “And after Tempestra-Innara… then what? You take their place ruling the Devoted Lands?”

“Do you care what happens after? You’ll be free.”

There it is—the bait dangling at the end of the stick, my dream come true. Except I’d always imagined it to be in a world devoid of divinities.Allof them. Now the landscape of that world is becoming somethingvery, very different. Again, I feel a touch of winter, a sensation like ice cracking beneath my feet.

“Thenwhat?” I press.

Rion seems to understand, reluctance filling the air between us before he speaks again. “Mistakes were made, I’ll be the first to admit that. But it’s not too late to try again.”

“What do you mean?”

“The old gods are dead. Gone forever.” A fresh intensity ignites behind Rion’s eyes. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t make a few new ones.”

Forty-two